Peter Lovesey - The False Inspector Dew

'You should be careful what you say,' Marjorie told him. 'People will take you seriously.' She turned back to Paul. 'There's no reason now why you shouldn't enjoy yourself for the rest of the crossing. Will you be staying in here for the dancing? I believe they have an excellent tempo — wouldn't you say, Barbara?'

Barbara gave a small shrug. 'It's all right.'

'Matter of fact, I promised a couple of drinks to the guy who handed in my billfold, so I'll be heading for the lounge,' said Paul, i haven't forgotten your money, Mr Cordell.'

'Nor me, son,' said Livy.

'I guess this isn't the place to hand it over.'

'I'm not particular,' said Livy.

Marjorie made a sound of exasperation. 'Livy, this is a public restaurant. Leave it till later. Have you got a table, Mr Westerfield? You know we'd be delighted if you would join us.'

Paul explained that he had a place reserved with some friends of his father's. He said it was time that he joined them. He wished the Cordells a good meal and moved rapidly away.

'That's gratitude!' said Marjorie acidly.

'You're crowding the boy,' Livy told her. 'Give him some breathing space. He'll be back.'

'Yes, Mother,' said Barbara. 'Livy's right. I'm getting pretty damn tired of you trying to force Paul to take an interest in me. Why can't you leave us alone?'

Marjorie clicked her teeth, i will, if that's what you want. I wasn't doing it for my own amusement, you know.'

There was not much more conversation at their table that evening.

Towards the end of the meal one of the ship's officers got up to announce that it was customary on the first evening at sea to select three chairmen from among the passengers. As most of those present had crossed in the other direction, and many were regular ocean travellers, the choice was swiftly made. They chose the president of the Chase Manhattan Bank as Chairman of the auction pool. The Wimbledon singles champion, Bill Tilden, was persuaded to chair the sports committee. An Italian tenor on his way to the new season at the Met was nominated concert chairman.

'How can he be concert chairman?' asked Johnny Finch. 'He can't speak a word of English. By God, if I were free to make a nomination'

'You're not,' said Alma quickly. 'You gave your word.'

To give him credit, the loquacious Johnny had been scrupulously fair. He made his living selling motor cars and he had a fund of fascinating stories about his customers. He had a Lanchester 40 in the hold of the Mauretania. He was very proud of it. Since he had started with the firm, the Lanchester 40 had outsold the Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. Now he was expanding into the American market.

Alma knew nothing about motor cars, yet she was glad to listen. She laughed at Johnny's stories. She could relax while he entertained the table. She liked the way his wrinkled face exaggerated each emotion as he spoke. She liked to hear him laugh. There were moments over dinner when she practically forgot about the body in her stateroom.

Paul ordered two large brandies from the steward. He asked Jack Gordon, 'Do you know the Mauretanial

'Not very well. I sail with White Star as a rule. The Majestic. German built. It has a solid feel to it.'

'I came over on the Berengaria, so I know what you mean. You're a regular traveller, then?'

'Did it sound like that? Only about once a year. I have some people in New York. I like to see them. And I enjoy the crossing.'

'The sports?'

Jack smiled. 'No, I don't enjoy deck tennis. I swim a little sometimes. The Roman pool on the Majestic really is worth getting wet for. Unless you're careful on a British ship, it's all sports and games. You get no time to yourself at all.'

The steward brought the brandy. Jack sent him for some cigarettes. He raised his glass. 'Here's to calm water all the way.'

'I've been so busy since I got on board that I haven't given a thought to what the sea is doing,' said Paul. On the principle that the giving of a confidence is a measure of companionship, he told the story of Poppy from start to finish.

'She must have been fun to know,' said Jack. 'One of our cockney sparrows — chirpy and adorable. Pity you had to part. But a chap like you won't be short of female company for long. Nothing can beat an ocean voyage for a short romance.'

Paul laughed. 'Who do you have in mind for me?'

'How about that very attractive young lady I saw you with before dinner?'

'Before dinner?'

'You appeared to be in conversation with her parents in the dining saloon, but you can't tell me you didn't notice the stunning girl with brown hair cut very short whose big dark eyes never left you for a second.'

'Ah, that's Barbara, a sweet girl I know from college days. In fact we went out together a couple of times in London.' Paul stopped. He had noticed from the movement of Jack's eyes that someone was behind him. He turned and felt the brush of soft fabric on his face. The woman was wearing a peacock blue dress with filmy sleeves that swirled gently as she moved her arms. She had extremely fine, black hair gathered in a bun. She was about ten years older than Paul. Her face had the high cheekbones and narrow brow that preserve beauty indefinitely.

She said in a clear English accent, 'Gentlemen, I hope you will forgive me interrupting your conversation. My name is Katherine Masters and I am trying to speak to everyone about the ship's concert. You see, Signor Martinelli was the obvious choice as concert chairman, and he is a very sweet man as well as a brilliant singer, but his English is not really equal to the task of finding volunteers for Tuesday night. I'm doing a little crusading on his behalf. I know that there are always talented people on a Mauretania crossing.'

Jack had already shaken his head and smiled. 'No, no. I'm not one of them. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can help you, Miss Masters.'

'Nor me,' said Paul. 'I'm completely unmusical. Tone deaf, in fact.'

Katherine Masters was not so easily brushed aside. 'No, music isn't a requirement. Between ourselves,' — she leaned forward to make sure she was not overheard — 'we have more violinists than we can possibly use. They bring their music with them, you know.' She put her hand on Paul's shoulder and he caught a whiff of expensive scent. 'I'm really hoping to find some jolly young men who wouldn't mind playing a part in a sketch.'

'Not me, I'm afraid,' said Paul.

'The only thing I can play is a hand of whist,' said Jack, 'and I'm not very good at that.'

'Whist?' said Miss Masters. 'I adore whist. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll say no more about the concert if you include me in a four for whist.'

'Tonight?'said Jack.

'Why not? I've nearly finished going round.'

'Paul, do you play?'

'Just occasionally. I'm no expert.'

'Put it this way: if you have a choice of a few hands of whist tonight or doing a music hall turn on Tuesday, which will it be?'

Paul grinned, it's blackmail.'

'But is it a deal?'

'I guess it is.'

'Divine!' said Miss Masters. 'But we'll need a fourth.'

'That's all right,' said Jack. 'Paul was talking earlier to a young lady he knew from his college days. I expect she could be persuaded, couldn't she?'

'I couldn't say,' said Paul. 'I'll mention it.'

'Fine,' said Miss Masters, in half an hour, then?'

'We'd better meet in the smoking room,' said Jack, i believe that's where they keep the cards.' When she had moved away, he said to Paul, 'You see? I don't know what it is about ocean liners, but no man is safe. I hope you don't feel I've let you in for this.'

'Not at all. I enjoy a game of cards. I'd better go and look for Barbara.'

He found her sitting alone at the Cordells' table in the dining saloon. She was watching the dancing. Livy and her mother were one-stepping to I'm just wild about Harry. Barbara looked up at Paul. Her face lit up. Instead of asking her to play whist, he had an impulse to dance with her. He took her hand and squeezed it. Jack was right. She was very attractive. As they took the floor, he said, 'You know, in all the time we've known each other, I don't believe we've ever danced together.'